Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1887-12-08
CRAZED BY LOVE.

tumn had been rainy and gloomy. The
red leaves, instead of rustling beneath
the feet, rotted in the burrows under
the heavy showers.
The well-nigh naked forest was as
damp as bathing establishment. As
the hunter entered it and trudged
along over the wet grass and soggy
soilunder the great storm-beaten trees,
he found himself enveloped by moi
some vapor with a musty smell. His
dogs also seemed affected by the
wretched weather, so detected did they
look, as with dropping tails and reek
ing skins they trotted along close be-
hind his heels.
In the main parlor, after dinner, we
had been playing lotto to kill time,
while gusts of wind ratified the win
dows, and, on the outside, made the
old weathercocks spin like tops. Find
ing but little pleasure in the game, we
tried our hands at storytelling, just
as people are said to do IN books, but
no one invented anything amusing.
The hunters related adventures that
had occurred to them while out shoot
ing-massacres of rabbits, while the
ladies racked their brains in futile at
tempts to discover Scheherazade's in
spiration.
We were on the point of giving up
this species of entertainment also,
when young lady, thoughtlessly toy
ing with the hand of her maiden aunt,
noticed on one of the old lady's fingers
small ring made Of light hair. She
had frequently seen this trinket, but
had never before paid any attention to
it.
AS she gently turned the ring around
her aunt's finger, she asked:
"By-the-by, Aunty, what ring is
thisp 1t looks like the halr of a child
The old maid blushed, became pale;
then, with faltering voice, she said;
at is SO sad a story that never like
to speak of it. II was the one great
misfortune OF my life. | was quite
young when it all happened, and yet
the memory of it is so painful that |
still shed tears whenever think about
it
As n matter of course all wanted to
hear the story. The old maid at first
refused to tell it, but finally she yield
ed to our solicitations and began as
follows
You have often heard tell of the
Sante2o family. II is now extinct, but
was acquainted with the three last
men of that race They all died the
same death. This ring is the hair Of
the last one. He was thirteen years
old when he killed himself on my ac-
count That seems very strange to
you, does it not2
OH they were singular race, in
sane, if YOU wish, but the most charm-
ing unatics, crazed by love. All,
from father to son, were a prey to yiO
lent passions, to great impulses which
made them enthusiasts in all they un-
dertook. to such an extent, that they
would not have hesitated at crime.
In them this passion was what ardent
devotion is in certain minas Those
who become trappjsts are not of the
same nature as our drawing-room but
terlies. In our family, we used to say:
ain love like a Santeze, They all had
curly hair and beard aud large eyes,
the light of which seemed to penetrate
and disturb ones soul, though it would
have been hard to say why.
The grandfather of the one of whom
this is the only souvenir have, after
many adventures and ducls, ut the age
of siXty-tiye fell blindly in love with
his farmers daughter. | knew both
of them. She was a pale blonde, of
distinguished appearance, with a soft
voice and SO gentle look that she
seemed Madonna. The old nobleman
took her TO his house and became SO
attached To her that he could not be
happy "A minute unless he was in her
company. His daughter and step
daughtcr. who lived i'm the chateau
with him. found this quite natural, so
traditional had love become in her
family. Nothing surprised them Il